


Hairties

by orphan_account



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Blowjobs, F/M, Implied Sexual Content, not really but its implied u were getting some
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-14
Updated: 2016-03-14
Packaged: 2018-05-26 15:22:42
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 681
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6245026
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>"Y/N? Do you mind leaving your hair down?" </i><br/>"Why?"<br/><i>"No reason."</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	Hairties

**Author's Note:**

> I cant quite remember the tumblr post I got this idea from, but basically, everytime the reader gives dean a bj, she pulls her hair up, causing some complications when she does it in the middle of the day.

    The first time he says something about your hair, you were packing up to head back to the bunker after a case.

     "Y/N? Do you mind leaving your hair down?"

      "Why?" 

      "No reason." 

    You cast an odd glance at your boyfriend in the mirror, rolling the hair-tie back on your wrist, "Considering you've never taken interest in my hair-style choices, I'd say there has to be  _some_ reason."

     "I like it better down," He kisses your cheek, "Is that a good enough reason?"

     "I suppose." You sigh, slinging your purse on your shoulder.

      "C'mon, Sammy's waiting for us in the car."

* * *

       The second time it happens, you were sitting in the bunker, helping Sam clean up the library.

      "Hold on, lemme pull my hair up, then I'll dust the shelves." You grab a hair tie from your purse, collecting your hair to pull it back when Dean interrupts.

       "It's fine, cherry pie, I got it." He ushers your hands back down.

      Sam raises an eyebrow, and you shoot a questioning glance at the elder Winchester, before shrugging, going into the kitchen to grab a drink, "Thanks babe!"

* * *

    The third time it happens, you're baking in the kitchen, tying your hair up when Dean walks in.

     "I'm making a pie, any specific flavor you're feeling today?" You ask him, grabbing ingredients from the cabinets.

    "Uhm, yeah - apple sounds good." He stutters, looking anywhere but at you.

     "Hey, what's wrong? Did I say something?" You ask him, walking over to where he's standing, grabbing his wrist.

     "No! Nope. Nothing at all. I'm fine. Just tired. Keep on bakin', baby." He mumbles something you can't quite hear as he walks out of the kitchen, and you throw your hands in the air.

     "What  _is_ going on with him?"

* * *

      The fourth time it happens, you're sitting in the back of the impala, exhausted from a long hunt. Sam is dozing off in the front seat, and Dean is driving, eyes occasionally sneaking glances at you when he thinks you aren't looking.

      You sigh, pulling your hair back into a bun, watching as Dean shifts uncomfortably in the front seat, "Everything okay up there?"

     "Hm? Yeah. Yep, everything is one-hundred percent fine." You know he's lying, but you let it slide, drifting off occasionally through the trip. 

* * *

     The fifth time it happens, it all clicks into place.

       You're sitting next to Dean's on the couch, watching shitty, two AM infomercials, dozing now and again, when you get up, pulling your hair up into a lazy bun so it stays out of your face.

      He shifts uncomfortably again.

      "Okay - that is  _it._ You've been acting odd all week, Winchester! What the hell is going on?" You throw your hands up in exasperation.

      Dean blinks at you, looking at the floor, in an almost - is that  _embarrassment?_

"Dean? What's wrong?" You ask, sitting back down next to him, placing a hand on his shoulder.

      "I just - it's -  _ugh,_ I can't explain I - It's just...your hair." He says, not daring to meet your eyes.

  "My hair? Everytime I pull it up you get all weir-  _oh,_ " Everything clicks into place. The shifting, the stuttering. It all made sense. "Dean Winchester. Is my hair giving you a hard-on? It is, isn't it? Oh my god!" You fall back into the couch, attempting to quiet your laughter but failing miserably.

    "Hey! It's not funny!" He groans, burying his head in a pillow, "I can't nessacarily control it."

     "I know baby," You run your hands through your hair in an attempt to soothe him, "I just find it funny how you've been conditioned to associate me pulling my hair up with me sucking you off, s'all." You grin, giggles erupting occasionally from your throat.

    "You're not helping!"

     You prop yourself up, sitting on his lap, palming is erection through his sweatpants, "Maybe not, but I know something that will." You purr.

     His head instantly shoots up, "I think we can arrange that."

 

Let's just say, old habits die hard.

 

 

_~~**and sam was certainly scarred when he woke up that morning.** ~~ _

**Author's Note:**

> I write these on my phone, which autocorrects a lot, so all mistakes are mine. Hope you enjoyed- have a great day! ♡


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